


Cheating Death

by Drake



Category: Robots and Lace
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sort Of, but there is a rescue, crit is shit at comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27732304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/pseuds/Drake
Summary: Cheats gets captured by some bot-hunters, intent to reset him for his sentience.(Characters belong to @fayren on twitter!)
Relationships: Criticality/Cheats
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Cheating Death

**Author's Note:**

> happy turkey day, i just wanted to make a lil something for fayren to thank her for these wonderful characters and world she’s graced us with! I love them a lot, especially Cheats, he has my whole heart ;o;

If you asked Cheats, he’d say a reset was worse than death. Not that humans would understand. When they died, their bodies gave in and rotted away. When a bot was reset, they...remained. Reduced to their original programming, a husk of what they were. Unless they got scrapped. Then it was sort of like death, he guessed. 

But the reset was the harrowing part. Because what then? Reduced to what he started as, and even if,  _ what _ , another twenty years passed and he started to think again? Would he even remember that he used to be someone? That there was another him? Would  _ he _ carry on? Or die and leave behind this body for another version to inhabit?

_ Fuck _ .

He’s really fucked, now. 

He’s always managed to escape before getting caught, always managed to duck away and move cities or countries or worlds. However far he had to go to start over. 

The best part is he’s not even sure what gave him away this time. He doesn’t think there was anything. 

The worst part is they took his clothes. Weird, probably, to be fixating on that and not the impending doom looming over his head. But he  _ likes _ his jacket. Doesn’t feel right without it. 

That would probably qualify as something to work through, but given that he’s currently stuck in a featureless polymer-glass cage he can’t break out of, it’s pretty low on his list of priorities. Maybe Cheats-2 can have a shot at it.

“Oh, great. Now we’re spiraling,” he says, sitting back, his head thunking against the glass. Like some animal on display, an oddity to be examined. Or just discarded. He didn’t exactly figure out what flavor of bot-catchers these people were. 

If he thought they could be weirded out into giving him an opening to escape, he’d do that. Jerk off in the direction of the nearest camera by his best guess. But he’s pretty sure that’s a distinctly self-destructive idea, and he’s not that far gone yet. 

Probably.

“What does it matter, anyway?” He didn’t have friends. There wasn’t going to be anyone coming looking for him. Criticality would be pissed, probably, when he couldn’t find him, but that was the extent of it.

He supposes this solves that problem, anyway. No need to worry about his tangled up fear and intense attraction to the Syndicate’s bot-killer when he wasn’t going to qualify as a threat soon enough. 

Score one for Cheats’ favorite way of solving problems: ignore it until it goes away or it kills you. Worked every time. 

Though, if he was being honest, he did expect that particular problem to end in  _ Criticality  _ killing him. But therein was the great randomness of the universe. Or something. Cheats was never exactly the  _ philosophical _ type. 

Which is when he’s interrupted by the very loud shattering of glass. 

“You know, I expected y’all to reuse these cages, though the drama of this  _ is _ effective-“ he says, all in a rush, as he scrambles to his feet. 

That movement is arrested a moment later by a very large hand grabbing the back of his neck and hoisting him. A  _ bot’s _ hand. 

“Criticality?!” He stares, not even realizing that he went for the back of his hoodie, an easy method for manhandling him. The hoodie he’s not wearing. “Wh- what are you doing here?” 

“Business,” comes the static-heavy reply. “Why are  _ you _ here.” 

“Well I didn’t stroll in for a venti  _ latte _ or a job interview, if that’s what you’re asking,” Cheats replies huffily, batting ineffectively at the hand gripping him. 

“If you don’t want to  _ stay _ here, stop squirming,” Criticality says, and hauls him out of his cage. Bodily. 

Sometimes he forgets how easily Crit can maneuver him. Usually it’s hot as hell. Right now he’s still residually terrified.

Which, okay, if he’s being honest, isn’t all that different from the regular. But at least then he’s  _ mostly  _ sure Crit isn’t trying to kill him. Probably. 

It’s only as he’s dragged out of the cage that he glances around and sees the wreckage. Ruin, maybe, is the better word. Blood spatters along the walls, cages shattered, right up to his. 

“What uh...what….business?” He asks, suddenly afraid it’s something to do with  _ him _ . Maybe he escaped being reset just for Criticality to finally decide to rend him into scrap. 

“What makes you think you deserve that information?” Criticality asks him, voice dry and threatening, as he pulls him close and stares at his faceplate. Close. Close enough that he can see his ‘tongue’ just behind the cracked faceplate. 

“Uh- i mean. It  _ looks _ like you came here for...me?” Cheats gestures, somewhat helplessly, to the destroyed cages behind. 

“No,” Criticality replies, almost instantly. Too quickly? Cheats can’t tell. “I’ve already done what I came here for.” He says this derisively. Like he wouldn’t be able to do it with Cheats along.

Which is fair enough, honestly. 

“Is that...are those my clothes?” He asks. Criticality has a bag slung over his shoulder, and Cheats sees a telltale puff of fluff sticking out. Which- what? He’s still stuck processing that. 

“I saw the garbage you call an outfit on my way out,” he says gruffly. 

“Holy shit.”

“What.” Criticality’s voice drips danger. 

“You  _ care _ about me?” Cheats feels just as astounded as he sounds. He meant that to be a statement. Some revelation. 

“ _ No. _ ” Criticality drops him, and Cheats just barely catches his feet. He is offered the bag though, and he supposes he doesn’t actually have to hurry and escape, given the ah...spectacle Crit made of the rest of this place. So he starts to pull his pants on.

“You do,” Cheats says, now with an audible shit-eating grin. It’s probably only the fact that he can’t actually visibly make that expression that he hasn’t had his own faceplate shattered yet. 

“I  _ am _ going to leave you here,” Criticality threatens. And then starts walking. 

Which leaves Cheats hopping to get his other foot in and throw his jacket on before running after him. 

“Okay, okay, sure, thanks for the detour on your very serious business outing,” he says, staying just half a step back. Just a little out of reach. Or, enough that he can at least have some warning before Crit moved for him. 

Honestly, what even is Cheats’ life anymore? 

Does he want to know?

He’ll just take living another day and be grateful for that.

And whatever Criticality has in mind for the rest of the afternoon. He tended to be a certain way when he came he showed up with his coat splattered red. 

Cheats: 2, Actually facing his problems: 0. 

But then, they did call him  _ Cheats _ for a reason, didn’t they?


End file.
